Read Elaine Barbieri for Free Online Page B

the sky. Beyond, the rising sun shone on snow-covered peaks that appeared to touch the clouds, and further yet the outline of black, rolling hills was faintly visible—all in an atmosphere so bright and clear that she felt she could see forever.
    Where was she?
    Swept with a sudden panic when memory failed her, she sat up, then turned at the sound of footsteps approaching. She caught her breath at first sight of the man who came into view.
    Shadow Walker.
    She remembered. She had been thrown from her horse while attempting to escape and had regained consciousness to see Shadow Walker leaning over her.
    Her heart jumped a beat.
    I speak only once in warning.
    Yes, she remembered it all—the humiliating walk through camp as she was ridiculed and tormented; awakening in Shadow Walker’s lodge the next morning; their angry exchange before he threw her over his shoulder as if she were baggage, then tossed her astride his horse before mounting behind her.
    She remembered that the women and children of the camp had laughed at her indignity.
    Strangely, her memory became uncertain then. She remembered riding, the pain in her head growing greater with each jolting step, and the heat in her body keeping pace. She recalled that her eyelids became too heavy to lift, and that a fire burned with increasing heat under her skin.
    Shadow Walker came closer to where she sat and Miranda fought back her humiliation. She stood up unsteadily as he halted beside her. His eyes narrowed inscrutiny. The first to speak, she addressed him with all the strength she could muster, demanding, “Where are we?” She glanced around. “Why are we here in this wilderness? This isn’t the way back to Fort Walters.”
    “Your illness lessens,” he observed.
    “I wasn’t sick. I had a headache, that’s all. I demand to be returned to the fort.”
    He responded with a twitch of his lips, “Yes, you are getting well.”
    Barely. Miranda raised a hand to her head as a mild aching returned. She touched her matted hair, then said abruptly, “I need to bathe … to wash my hair.”
    Surprising her with his lack of opposition, Shadow Walker motioned in the direction from which he had come.
    Chin high but her step unsteady, Miranda started forward. Stumbling on bare feet, she exhaled a relieved breath when she emerged into an area where a sparkling stream pooled. She quickly stepped out of her pants and entered the water.
    Gasping as the cool water of the pond touched her skin, she walked gradually deeper. She sank beneath the water and remained there for long moments before breaking through the surface with a gasp. Invigorated, she swam cautiously, circling the pool as her mind slowly cleared. She was in the wilderness with a silent Cheyenne warrior. She did not know their destination or his intentions. Only onething was clear: she needed to escape.
    A familiar panic gripped her at the memory of Shadow Walker’s relentless pursuit. How could she escape him? And what would she do if she did, when she had no idea at all where she was?
    Turning toward the bank at the sound of footsteps, she saw Shadow Walker emerge into the clearing. As she watched, he removed his shirt and leggings without an apparent thought to her scrutiny, leaving only a brief breechcloth to cover him. Her breath caught in her throat as he entered the water.
    Totally at ease with his partial nakedness, he swam toward her in long, even strokes. Somehow unable to take her eyes from him, Miranda treaded water as he drew nearer. She watched as he submerged and surfaced again directly at her side. She was still at a loss for words when he looked into her eyes and said unexpectedly, “We are equals in the water. You cannot escape as you did once before. Conduct yourself reasonably, and you will keep your freedom here.”
    That message emotionlessly delivered, Shadow Walker swam back toward shore. Miranda watched as he stepped up onto the bank, beads of water glistening on his back—on smooth